The Poems of Ossian, 第 2 卷D. & G. Bruce, 1810 |
搜尋書籍內容
第 1 到 5 筆結果,共 100 筆
第 9 頁
... sword to Annir of spears . The grey- haired hero rose , when he saw the sword of Fin- gal . His eyes were full of tears ; he remembered his battles in youth . Twice had they lifted the spear before the lovely Agandecca : heroes stood ...
... sword to Annir of spears . The grey- haired hero rose , when he saw the sword of Fin- gal . His eyes were full of tears ; he remembered his battles in youth . Twice had they lifted the spear before the lovely Agandecca : heroes stood ...
第 12 頁
... sword : the sons of dismal Lano fled to their se- cret vales ! Oscar brought the daughter of Inis- thona to Annir's echoing halls . The face of age is bright with joy ; he blest the king of swords . How great was the joy of Ossian ...
... sword : the sons of dismal Lano fled to their se- cret vales ! Oscar brought the daughter of Inis- thona to Annir's echoing halls . The face of age is bright with joy ; he blest the king of swords . How great was the joy of Ossian ...
第 13 頁
... sword of Cormalo ; a thousand youths admire its studded thongs . They look with wonder on my son : they admire the strength of his arm . They mark the joy of his father's eyes ; they long for an equal fame . And ye shall have your fame ...
... sword of Cormalo ; a thousand youths admire its studded thongs . They look with wonder on my son : they admire the strength of his arm . They mark the joy of his father's eyes ; they long for an equal fame . And ye shall have your fame ...
第 20 頁
... sword like the sword of Oscar . But he fell , and his father mourned : his sister's eyes were full of tears . Minona's eyes were full of tears , the sister of car - borne Morar . She retired from the song of Ullin , 20 THE SONGS OF SELMA .
... sword like the sword of Oscar . But he fell , and his father mourned : his sister's eyes were full of tears . Minona's eyes were full of tears , the sister of car - borne Morar . She retired from the song of Ullin , 20 THE SONGS OF SELMA .
第 21 頁
... sword in battle , as light- Thy voice was a stream after ning in the field . rain ; like thunder on distant hills . Many fell by thy arm ; they were consumed in the flames VOL . II . * Mórér , great man . D of thy wrath . But when thou ...
... sword in battle , as light- Thy voice was a stream after ning in the field . rain ; like thunder on distant hills . Many fell by thy arm ; they were consumed in the flames VOL . II . * Mórér , great man . D of thy wrath . But when thou ...
其他版本 - 查看全部
常見字詞
arms art thou Atha bards battle beam behold bend blast blood blue streams Cairbar Calmar car-borne Carril Cathmor cave chief Clono cloud Cona Connal Cormac Cromla Cuthullin Dar-thula dark dark-brown darkened daugh daughter death distant dost thou echoing Erin Erin's eyes fame fathers feast feeble fell field fight Fillan Fingal fled Foldath friends Gaul ghosts gleaming grey grief hall harp hear heard heath heroes hill Inis-huna king of Ireland king of Morven king of swords Lathmon Lego Lena light Lochlin Lubar maid midst mighty mist Moi-lena Mora Morni mournful Nathos night Oscar Ossian poem renown rise roar rock roes rolled rose rush Ryno Selma Semo shield side sigh silent song sons soul sound steel steps storm stream Strutha Sul-malla Swaran sword tears Temora thee thine Thou art tomb Torman Trenmor Ullin Usnoth Uthal vale voice warriors waves wind youth
熱門章節
第 17 頁 - ... stream and the wind roar aloud. I hear not the voice of my love! Why delays my Salgar, why the chief of the hill, his promise? Here is the rock, and here the tree! here is the roaring stream! Thou didst promise with night to be here. Ah! whither is my Salgar gone? With thee I would fly, from my father; with thee, from my brother of pride. Our race have long been foes; we are not foes, O Salgar! Cease a little while, O wind! stream, be thou silent a while! let my voice be heard around. Let my...
第 56 頁 - She " was covered with the Light of Beauty; but her " heart was the House of Pride.
第 160 頁 - The music of Carryl was, like the ." memory of joys that are past, pleasant and
第 20 頁 - ... hunter's eye the grave of the mighty Morar. Morar! thou art low indeed. Thou hast no mother to mourn thee, no maid with her tears of love. Dead is she that brought thee forth. Fallen is the daughter of Morglan. "Who on his staff is this? Who is this whose head is white with age, whose eyes are red with tears, who quakes at every step? It is thy father, O Morar!
第 5 頁 - OUR youth is like the dream of the hunter on the hill of heath. He sleeps in the mild beams of the sun; he awakes amidst a storm; the red lightning flies around : trees shake their heads to the wind! He looks back with joy, on the day of the sun; and the pleasant dreams of his rest!
第 18 頁 - I sit in my grief! I wait for morning in my tears! Rear the tomb, ye friends of the dead. Close it not till Colma come. My life flies away like a dream! why should I stay behind?
第 19 頁 - Morar! as a roe on the desart; terrible as a meteor of fire. Thy wrath was as the storm. Thy sword in battle, as lightning in the field. Thy voice was a stream after rain ; like thunder on distant hills.
第 137 頁 - Whither dost thou retire from thy course, when the darkness of thy countenance grows? hast thou thy hall, like Ossian ? dwellest thou in the shadow of grief? have thy sisters fallen from heaven ? are they who rejoiced with thee, at night, no more ? Yes, they have fallen, fair light ! and thou dost often retire to mourn.
第 71 頁 - Oscar ! bend the strong in arm ; but spare the feeble hand. Be thou a stream of many tides against the foes of thy people ; but like the gale that moves the grass to those who ask thine aid. — So Tremor lived; such Trathal was ; and such has Fingal been. My arm was the support of the injured ; and the weak rested behind the lightning of my steel.
第 339 頁 - Bring me the harp, son of Alpin. Another song shall rise. My soul shall depart in the sound. My fathers shall hear it in their airy hall. Their dim faces shall hang, with joy, from their clouds; and their hands receive their son. The aged oak bends over the stream. It sighs with all its moss. The withered fern whistles near, and mixes, as it waves, with Ossian's hair. 'Strike the harp, and raise the song: be near, with all your wings, ye winds. Bear the mournful sound away to Fingal's airy hall....